The Pull of Destiny

by Hotcheri

  Last but not least, dad wasn’t speaking to me. Let me rephrase that. After yelling me out so badly the windows of the penthouse shook and Faith covered her ears and started crying, dad wasn’t speaking to me. He had been so angry to hear about what I had done and what my punishment for it was (thank you, Principal Big-Mouth Herman) that he’d said a lot of things that cut me deep.

  “You’re an embarrassment to the Astor name...”

  “...I don't know what we ever did to deserve you.”

  “I wouldn't say you were the best mistake I ever made. That would be your sister.”

  Every time he passed me in the hallway, (I made a conscious decision not to be alone in a room with him for fear he’d stab me) he shook his head and muttered, “Ten detentions,” in disgust.

  And when he wanted to be hurtful, he would make snide comments about me to anyone who’d listen.

  It got so annoying that after two days of dealing with it (dad can be a real baby about stuff) I started holing up in my room, blasting my iPod and just trying to forget about my crappy, loveless life. Everybody wanted to be needed, but I never got that vibe from my dad. He hated me for something that had happened before I was even born, something that wasn’t even my fault. And all I could do was take it.

  ***

  Come Friday, I’d had enough of being treated like a stranger in my own house, so I invited CiCi over for an afternoon of video gaming. Things had been a touch awkward between us ever since that near kiss and I wanted it to get back to normal again. You see, no matter how hard CiCi tried to pretend as though nothing had happened, I would spot her glancing at me every once in a while, an endearingly thoughtful look on her face. Just that look alone made me wish I could tell her what was on my mind, how I was starting to feel about her. But I couldn’t go through with it. CiCi was such an innocent girl; I didn’t want to be the guy who would scar her for life.

  Even though she already probably thinks you’re just playing with her mind, dumbass.

  I sighed to myself, making CiCi shoot me a concerned look. What to do but try to beat Halo 4?

  And beat it we did. It took four hours, countless replays of difficult missions, several expletive laced comments (yours truly) and, of course, snacks galore, but we finally beat Halo 4!

  As the credits rolled, I jumped up on my bed and threw my controller on the ground with such force that the batteries popped out. CiCi started, looking up at me apprehensively from where she sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor. I guess she had the right to have that nervous look on her face; I hadn’t said a word for about an hour.

  “You okay there?” she asked, popping a banana chip into her mouth.

  “Dude, I’ve been trying to beat this game for over a year!” I exclaimed, bouncing to my desk and picking up my list. “I’m not okay, I’m ecstatic!”

  Looking like she wanted to burst out into uncontrollable giggles, CiCi nodded. “Huh.”

  I plopped down on the floor beside her, involuntarily inhaling in the subtle aroma of strawberry surrounding her.

  “And I couldn’t have done it without you,” I told her, nudging her. “So thanks.”

  A pleased expression flickered over her face as she gave me a sideways look. “Don’t mention it.” She snickered. “I hope this means you’re going to stop throwing those little tantrums now.”

  “I got caught up in the moment,” I defended myself. “I didn’t mean to throw my cellphone across the room like that.”

  I also didn’t mean for the aforementioned cellphone’s screen to break, but that was beside the point. Anyway, it’s not like I needed a phone right now. My friends wouldn’t be calling me until they forgot about me ‘dissing’ them or until CiCi and I stopped being friends. Whichever came first.

  Uncapping my pen, I grinned as my eyes raced down the list to find my latest achieved goal. With a flourish, I wrote a neat ‘done’ next to ‘complete a video game. Any video game.’ God, it had been so long ago since I wrote that. So much had happened in that time. Shane’s death, my breakup with Joanna, CiCi...

  “I can’t believe you’ve been skydiving,” CiCi mumbled, reading over my shoulder. “I wouldn’t have the nerve.”

  “You don’t even have time to think about it,” I told her. “One second, you’re in the plane, the next second, you’re falling down to earth and you’re like, how the hell did that happen?”

  She chuckled softly, still reading my list. “What’s up with the ones you’ve put question marks after?” she asked.

  “They’re unobtainable,” I shrugged.

  Her forehead furrowed as she looked up at me. “Unobtainable? Explain, please.”

  Stretching my legs out in front of me and impulsively slinging an arm over CiCi’s shoulder, I said, “My unobtainable goals are basically things I want to do and stuff I want to happen that will never take place. Like robbing a bank. I played too much ‘Cops and Robbers’ when I was a kid. I always wanted to be the bad guy.”

  Giggling, CiCi rested her head on my shoulder, her soft hair tickling my cheek. “Why am I not surprised?” she said, snuggling closer to me. “I really hope you won’t rob a bank though. But some of these things you can still do.”

  “I don’t know,” I replied, staring down at the paper. I wanted to believe that I could do everything on the list, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. The last 4 things on my list were things I just didn’t see happening.

  Have a wish come true. Say ‘I love you’ and really mean it. Accept myself for who I am. Fall deeply and madly in love- helplessly and unconditionally.

  I smiled at the last one. Shane had put that one in, saying that I needed some romance in my life, having to deal with a girlfriend like Joanna.

  “You’re selling yourself short, here, Luke. I think you probably could achieve these goals if you put your mind to it.”

  I smiled at her and was rewarded by an adorable smile back that made my heart pound. Her locket brushed against my shoulder.

  “Do you have a picture in there?” I asked randomly. She nodded, unclasping the chain with one quick movement.

  “I thought I showed it to you,” she said, opening the locket and handing it to me. A much younger CiCi smiled up at me, sitting in the arms of a pretty, smiling teen. “I was four here.” She sighed softly. “My mom was such a baby. She was only 15 when she had me.”

  “Really?” I asked. A question popped into my head and I looked at CiCi, wondering what the best way to ask was. “CiCi- what happened with your mom? Like-what’s the whole story there? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  She blinked up at me. “You want the complete, unabridged story or the condensed version?” she asked, a joking tone in her voice. But the look in her eyes was pensive and it made me want to hold her close.

  “I’ll listen to whatever you want to tell me,” I replied truthfully, wrapping my arm tighter around her.

  “My mom was the baby of the family. She got whatever she wanted and with good reason- she was charming. But when she started middle school she fell through the cracks. It started with smoking and before you know it, she was drinking, staying out all night- all this at the age of 13.” Her voice hitched. “She met my dad in around the time she started smoking weed. He was 17, she was barely 15, but she told him she was 18. When she found out that she was pregnant, my dad had already left to go back to his home in LA. Of course, she had no way of contacting him.” CiCi shook her head and gave me a faint smile. “She was such a ditz. Didn’t even get his address. Just knew his name, but they didn’t have Facebook back then. Her parents- my grandparents- they were furious. Kicked her out of the house because she didn’t want an abortion. They disowned her just like that. So my mom ended up in a women’s shelter and I was born. That’s when things really started getting bad. She started doing crack, crystal meth and we moved from place to place. I don’t remember it that well, all I remember is her yelling and laughing and crying when she was high.” Staring down at her feet, CiCi shuddered. “It wa
s scary. Child Protection took me away once and she swore at the lady who came to get me. Just stood outside in the road and swore, screaming, crying and throwing her shoes at the car.”

  “Did you go to a foster home after that?” I asked, engrossed in her story.

  She was talking in a monotone, almost as though she was detaching herself from what had happened. I felt guilty for bringing it up, but I’d been curious about that part of her for a long time. And she spoke like she needed to tell someone.

  She nodded without looking up. “Two months. Mom went to government ordered rehab. It’s not like she was abusing me or anything, she just had to get clean before she could get custody of me again. When she got me back, things started looking up. She got a job as a waitress, we got public housing, she was off the drugs- life was better and more stable.” Her eyes misted over as she continued, her voice wistful. “I remember she used to make me hot chocolate with the tiny marshmallows and we would snuggle in bed. She took me to go meet Aunt Kelly for the first time when I was 4. But- it didn’t last.”

  “She relapsed.”

  It wasn’t a question. Why CiCi wasn’t screwed up beyond all reason was beyond me. Maybe she had repressed everything, but I knew some people who had grown up in better conditions and had still managed to be screw-ups. Like me. My respect for CiCi grew. She was a trooper.

  CiCi gave a humorless laugh. “In a huge way. You see, now that she had Aunt Kelly back in her life, she would drop me off at her place and leave for days. Then she’d come home and- she was just cracked out. Like the hobo’s you see panhandling on the street. I look at them every day, Luke, coz I think I’ll see my mom among them one day.” She rubbed her eyes fiercely with the heel of her hand and I quickly handed her a napkin, but she wasn’t crying. “On my 5th birthday she took me to Aunt Kelly’s- she was making me a birthday dinner. Aunt Kelly was out of soda and mom offered to go buy a bottle.” She shrugged. “And that was it. I never saw her again.”

  I stared down at her, not sure what to say. Was there anything I could say that would make her feel better? Nope.

  “Damn, CiCi- that sucks.”

  Obviously not the most sympathetic line to come out of my mouth.

  “I know. The fact that she wasn’t coming back didn’t register with me for a long time, but when I finally- you know, understood- I just broke down and cried. I was just a kid and she left me all alone.” CiCi cleared her throat, pushing her hair back. “But I’m okay with it now. It was probably all for the best.”

  “You didn’t deserve it,” I told her, hating the sad look on her face. “Shit, you don’t deserve it. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “What doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger,” she quipped. “Anyway, there was nothing I could have done. Aunt Kelly had no idea my mom was just going to leave me there.”

  “What about your dad? You ever met him?” I asked. She shook her head.

  “I don’t know anything about him, not even his name. I know Aunt Kelly knows, but she wouldn’t tell me because she prefers to let sleeping dogs lie.” She sighed. “And to be honest, even if he knows about me, which I doubt, he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  This whole conversation was just too depressing for words and it was my fault for bringing it up.

  I got to my feet and pulled a surprised CiCi up. “C’mon,” I said, slipping my hand into hers and leading her out of my room.

  “Where are we going?” she asked curiously.

  “To make hot chocolate. I’m thirsty. I’m sure you are too coz you’ve been talking non-stop.”

  “Um, a little. You’re random, you know that?”

  I grinned at her as we walked into the empty kitchen. Dad, Hope and Faith were in Martha’s Vineyard for the weekend. Thank God.

  “So I’ve been told. Now, where the hell are those marshmallows?”

  CiCi sat on a stool at the breakfast table while I started making the hot chocolate.

  “Luke, did your doctor tell you when he’ll be able to operate?” she asked suddenly, just as I found the whipped cream.

  “Nope. Same old story. It’s driving me crazy that there’s nothing they can do about it,” I replied, sticking my head into the fridge to locate the milk.

  “It must be scary, not knowing what’s gonna happen,” she mused.

  Scary was one way to describe it. I tried not to think about the whole situation, for fear it would make me crazy. “I’m taking each day as it comes,” I admitted.

  “And you still haven’t told Ahmed, Wendy and Denise about it?”

  I laughed as I placed CiCi’s mug in front of her. If there’s one thing I can do well, it’s make a mean hot chocolate. I could run circles around Dunkin Donuts.

  “They’re not talking to me. Well, Denise just says hi to me, so I guess that’s something. Wendy and Ahmed like to pretend I don’t exist.”

  “I’m sorry,” CiCi said before taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

  “It’s not your fault. I should have picked better friends. In fact, I-,” I started, only to be interrupted by CiCi’s loud gasp as she looked up at the clock on the wall.

  “Oh no! It’s almost 10pm! Luke, why didn’t you tell me it was this late?”

  I bit my lip shamefacedly, vaguely remembering CiCi telling me she had to be home by 8pm or her cousin would freak. I told her airily that I would get her home way before that but as you can see- didn’t happen.

  “Oh, God, sorry. I forgot.” I covered CiCi’s hand with mine as she stared wild eyed at the clock like she was willing it to turn back a few hours.

  “What am I gonna do?” she wailed.

  The answer popped into my head unbidden. I swear I hadn’t been thinking about this all afternoon. I swear.

  “You can stay over.”

  Now CiCi was looking at me like I was crazy.

  “That would just make matters worse. I gotta get home. Right now.” She took a last sip of her hot chocolate, clearly burning her lip, and started to stand up. I pulled her back down again.

  “No, stop. Is your aunt home?”

  “I guess. But what-.”

  “Call her and tell her you’re staying over at Robyn’s. You’ve done it before, right?” I said logically.

  “Yeah, but not when I was planning to stay over at a boys house!”

  “I won’t jump you in the middle of the night. I’m just trying to give you a way out. Nate doesn’t have to find out.”

  CiCi blinked, tugging on her earlobe as she looked up at me. “I don’t know if this is a good idea...”

  I handed her the cordless phone. “Trust me. It’s way better than showing up at your place this late.”

  “Luke,” she groaned, a faint smile on her face as she took the phone. “You make me so bad!”

  God, I wished.

  CiCi’s cheeks flushed a little as she spoke to her aunt and my guilty conscience flared up. Obviously I wasn’t going to jump CiCi, but it felt wrong for me to get her to lie to her aunt. Still, I tried to tell myself that it was for a good cause. The consequences for CiCi arriving home this late would no doubt be dire, especially if her cousin had anything to do with it.

  “Okay, we’re all set,” CiCi announced as soon as she was off the phone. She gave me a mock threatening look. “This better be worth it.”

  “Sure it’ll be! We can order pizza and hang out on the deck,” I said, warming to my idea.

  And that’s exactly what we did.

  Looking up at the sky as we sat in the hammock together, CiCi murmured, “It’s so beautiful out here.”

  “You know what, we could totally sleep out here,” I said impulsively.

  A bring it on look on her face, CiCi smiled at me. “Let’s do it!”

  We raided the laundry room and came out with a ton of blankets and sleeping bags.

  “I swear, I don’t know why we even have sleeping bags. I’ve never been camping in my life!” I laughed once we were laying down in our improvised bed, CiCi’s back
snuggling against my chest. It was almost too comfortable to be legal. She felt so good in my arms.

  “I went camping once,” CiCi murmured sleepily. “All the insects kept biting me. Not an experience I want to relive.”

  I cuddled her closer as the conversation dwindled and I finally realized that she had fallen asleep. And as corny as it sounds, I’m glad she was in my arms.

  Next morning.

  Celsi’s Point of View.

  I’m not one to brag, but Luke Astor cuddled me all night long!

  There. Got that out of my system.

  When I woke up the next morning, I was sure I was dreaming. I was sleeping outside, wrapped in a bunch of comfy blankets and Luke’s arms. What was going on?

  Then it all started coming back to me and I smiled to myself as Luke stirred.

  “You awake?” he mumbled in my ear, his breath warm on my neck.

  “Yeah. How did you sleep?”

  I for one slept fabulously.

  Luke stretched. “I slept great. How about you?”

  “Like a baby. Or not like a baby. I slept good.”

  “I’m glad.” Silence. “You wanna have something to eat before you leave?”

  “Sure,” I nodded, sitting up and looking down at Luke, who still had his eyes closed. Mmm, bed head. Sexy.

  “Or you could just lay back down. We could do brunch instead,” Luke amended, seeking out my wrist to try and pull me back down. Giggling, I stood up out of his reach.

  “Up and at ‘em, lazy boy! I have to get home.”

  I finally managed to get Luke up and into the house. While he washed his face, I quickly scrambled some eggs which turned out to be-

  “The best eggs I ever tasted,” Luke proclaimed with his mouth full. “And I’m not just paying lip service. I mean it.”

  I smiled at him. “Thanks.”

  Luke didn’t do the limo driver thing this time when he dropped me off. He borrowed Hope’s red Mustang and parked right outside my building. It was just after 8am, so I figured it would be alright. Nate woke up after 5pm on weekends, anyway. How wrong I was.